


The Pawn

by HazelBludger110



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, POV Draco Malfoy, Rating May Change, Will be tagging as I go, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-07 16:25:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelBludger110/pseuds/HazelBludger110
Summary: It didn’t matter which way it was spun, he was just a pawn in somebody else’s chess match. It was a feeling he was entirely too familiar with now.ORDraco returns to Hogwarts as part of his sentencing to complete his final year of schooling. The Ministry is hoping he'll break his probation so they can have an excuse to cart him off to Azkaban, but Headmistress McGonagall has other plans.So on top of his NEWT-level classes, the apparent need to practice his shield charms, and the crumbling foundation of his upbringing Draco is now thrust into a position he seems terribly ill-suited for. A position that has him in Hermione Granger's presence far too often for his liking. Or at least that's what he keeps telling himself.***UNDERGOING REWRITES!***





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> It has been quite some time since I've dipped my toes into the Harry Potter fandom, and my first time trying a fic with one of my favorite pairings. This first post is just the Prelude. I have no clue how long this will be, but I'm very excited about the plans I have for it! I'm un-beta'd so please forgive me for any errors and let me know what you think!

Draco closed the heavy lid of his trunk before slowly fiddling with the locks. The metal felt smooth and cool under his fingertips as his mind wandered to what was ahead of him for the rest of the day. And for the better part of the next year.

It was September first and against all odds (and his every instinct) he was going back to Hogwarts. McGonagall had come to the Manor two months prior, after the results of his trial were made public in _The Prophet_. He had been given a probationary period of 3 years in which he must remain within the grounds of his family home, which had been heavily warded. Of course, this was with one notable exception: a mandatory return to Hogwarts to complete his final year of schooling. It had been painted at the hearing to be a kindness; this way after his probation he would have the ability to be a functioning member of Wizarding society. It was hogwash, in other words, to anyone with half a brain.

Draco scoffed to himself as he recalled the evening McGonagall arrived in their sitting room.

_ “I hardly need to explain to you what the Ministry is hoping to achieve by placing you at Hogwarts within your probationary period, Mr. Malfoy,” she stated briskly. She was seated on the very edge of the chaise across from him and his mother with her spine ramrod straight. Clearly she wanted to be here as much as he did. _

_ She was right though, Draco was many things but daft wasn't one of them. The Ministry was hoping he’d break the terms of his probation so they could chuck his sorry arse into Azkaban next to his father. It was brilliant on their part if he was being honest. He would have no allies at that school; The Light despising him for his association with The Dark and The Dark for his family’s traitorous actions at and after the final battle. His Hawthorne wand had been returned to him with the advisement that he was not permitted to perform any magic “that could cause harm to others.” Meaning no offensive magic or basically anything the Aurors deemed “dangerous.” So if something were to happen and he had to defend himself he'd have the choice of either taking it on the chin or finding himself back in a courtroom._

_ He’d be lucky to make it a week in the Slytherin common room. Not to mention a meal in the Great Hall. _

_ McGonagall’s voice brought his attention back. “With that being said, I would like to take some precautions on your behalf.” _

_ Draco felt his mother shift, her focus on the other woman flipping from the facade of cool disinterest into something akin to high regard. “We would appreciate that greatly, Headmistress McGonagall. What are you suggesting?” _

_ “Mr. Malfoy will have his own dormitory,” McGonagall began. “With a special position that’s been created for this year. As many students are returning to finish their education with an additional year of schooling we have decided to create the 8th year Leadership initiative.” _

_ Draco looked at his Professor dubiously, mouth twisting in distaste at the implication. He spoke slowly, trying to keep the condescension from his tongue. “Forgive me, but I imagine putting me in a... leadership position may... upset some of my classmates. Headmistress,” he added on hastily after a sharp look from his mother. “And what of the Head Boy and Girl position? Wouldn’t this additional position be... redundant?” Bloody stupid, more like. _

_ “The Head Boy and Girl will maintain the same responsibilities that they always have. The 8th year Leadership position is being tasked with promoting inter-House unity.” _

_ There was a long silence before Draco couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “Are you mad?” _

_ “Draco,” his mother snapped. _

_ Draco fought the urge to sneer. “My apologies, Headmistress, but certainly given the state of things and what you’re trying to achieve a different student would-” _

_ McGonagall’s words were sharper than splintered glass when she cut him off. “I’m quite aware that a different student would be a more reasonable choice, thank you, Mr. Malfoy. However, in order to provide you with appropriate accommodations, an exception was made. My highest priority remains singular: keeping my students safe. All of my students.” She gave him a hard stare in the beat of silence that followed. “This is my proposal to aid in regard specifically to _your _ safety. If you are uninterested in this position we will be forced to select another student and you will, of course, have a space available to you in the Slytherin dormitories with the rest of your House.” _

_ “That won’t be necessary,” Narcissa stated, placing her hand on Draco’s knee. A silent but firm warning to keep his mouth shut, prompting a scowl from Draco. He fought the instinct to cross his arms in his annoyance. He wasn’t a child. His mother continued to speak for him regardless. “Draco would be happy to accept the position and the private dormitory that comes with it. We humbly appreciate your generosity.” _

Draco gave an undignified snort. “Generosity,” he mumbled sarcastically.

It was two sides of the same coin.

The Ministry wanted to use him to prove their view that once one is a convicted Death Eater, they will always be a Death Eater at heart. McGonagall wanted to use him to try and rebuild what The Dark Lord had broken. To smooth the cracks and begin to, quote-unquote, _ heal. _ It was a load of hogwash as far as Draco was concerned. He was being used regardless, to be made an example of. _ Look, the Death Eater couldn’t help himself! _ or _ Look, the Death Eater wants to be rehabilitated! _

It didn’t matter which way it was spun, he was just a pawn in somebody else’s chess match. It was a feeling he was entirely too familiar with now.

“Draco, it’s time.”

His mother had appeared in the doorway to his room. He’d been stalling, lost in thought, for the better part of the last ten minutes. Fingers still lingering on the latches to his trunk he glanced over his shoulder. “Thank you, Mother. I’ll be there in just a moment.”

Narcissa didn’t move and Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. She hardly let him out of her sight anymore. If it weren’t for the horrifying memories of the Battle of Hogwarts (_The Prophet’s_ title, not his) and the general fear of being surrounded completely by people who hated him, going to school might have been a welcome reprieve from being hovered over constantly.

He flicked the latches closed finally and heaved his trunk off the bed and into his arms. Previously he would have just levitated it down the hall to the foyer but with the restriction wards on the Manor it wasn’t worth dealing with the risk of Auror’s swarming. He'd already had to deal with the sight of their gaudy scarlet robes two fortnights prior when he thoughtlessly lit the fireplace late one evening. They'd nearly blown the door in and Draco hadn't even had the opportunity to shout his surprise before his face was flat against the flooring. It has taken two hours of interrogation before they left in apparent dissatisfaction.

He idly thought that if it weren’t for the house-elves they likely wouldn’t be able to make tea without having to explain the purpose of their wandwork. Regardless, they had learned rather rapidly that it was just easier to do some things the Muggle way. His father would be furious, but his mother took it in stride with her head high and Draco followed suit without much complaint.

Draco carefully carried his trunk through the Manor with his mother trailing after him. They passed the closed door of the drawing-room and he stubbornly refused to look at it, even as his ears rang the way they always did when he thought of that day.

It had been one of his only requests after the war when he returned home with his mother; that they stopped using that room. She had agreed, sealing the room without any further discussion.

His forehead was damp and he was a bit breathless by the time they finally made it out the front door and to the edge of the property so he could Apparate. After gingerly placing his trunk on the ground to avoid scuffing it he pushed his hair off his face and turned to his mother.

Narcissa had tears in her eyes but blinked them away resolutely. Only Draco was permitted to Apparate to Hogsmeade. McGonagall had given him special instructions to arrive at the school early to sit down with her to discuss his duties and get settled into his dorm before other students began arriving. Her letter had been brief and curt, just as she always spoke to him, advising she had already cleared it with his probationary Auror. Draco couldn't imagine that conversation went well. This did conveniently mean that he would not ride the Hogwarts Express, with little to no supervision, to the castle with the rest of the students.

He didn’t like her, but Draco would admit to himself (and himself alone) that McGonagall seemed to know what she was doing.

“I’ll be fine, Mother,” Draco said, bringing himself back to the moment at hand. “McGonagall-”

“_Headmistress _ McGonagall, Draco,” his mother corrected. “You are to show her respect: she is the only one trying to keep you safe. You _ must _be on your very best behavior-”

Draco couldn’t refrain from rolling his eyes this time. “Mother, it’s not as if I’m going to go around picking fights. I’m not stupid.” When she didn’t look convinced Draco gave a suffering sigh. “I will be on my best behavior.”

Narcissa reached up, cupping his face in her hands and Draco softened. “You have been raised knowing that Malfoy men are strong and proud, sweetheart. I have been watching you emulate your father for years, in the way you walk and the way you speak. Which is why, for your safety, I beg you to avoid drawing any additional attention to yourself, even positive. Anything you do will be turned against you.” She paused, eyes taking in the details of his face like she may never see him again. It made his stomach clench with anxiety. Finally, she averted her eyes briefly, looking like she was picking her words very carefully. “I know you... want to make amends... for the things you have done and seen. I know how haunted you are.” Draco shifted uncomfortably, knowing she's referring to his night terrors. “There will be a time to rebuild the Malfoy name, someday. But for that to happen you will need to be alive, well, and far from Azkaban.” She reached to fix his hair. “_ You _are the only thing that matters now, my dove. Just come home safely.”

Draco swallowed against the lump in his throat. “I’ll be safe,” he promised. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek before wrapping his arms around her. She squeezed him tightly for a long moment before he began to pull away. “I can’t be late,” he said as an apology. His lips quirked into a little smirk. “It wouldn’t be very _respectful_ after all.”

She gave a small, watery laugh despite herself. “Mind your cheek, Draco.”

He smiled and gave his mother another kiss before grabbing his trunk and spinning on his heel. He disappeared from sight in a swirl of black robes and a shock of blonde hair with a loud _ crack! _


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1! I'm figuring chapters will usually hover around this length, maybe longer if a scene calls for it. In this chapter, we get to meet most of the other key players for this story. Oliver Rivers and Sally Smith are mine only in description and personality, as their names are mentioned as being other students in the same year as Harry Potter. The chapter is mostly build-up, setting the scene, me getting a lay of the land, all that jazz. Alright, happy reading!

Feet firmly finding the ground, Draco kept his eyes shut for a moment. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of the Scottish countryside. This was the first time he had been permitted outside the Manor grounds in the better part of two months. It smelled so different from Wiltshire. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed being outside the Manor until now.

He opened his eyes, taking in the empty platform. There was a cool breeze bringing a chill to his ankles. His school robes had needed to be sent out for alterations, (no one wanted to come to the Manor to tailor a Death Eater after all) and he had already noted that they were still a little short on him.

It was strange to think that two years prior he had been on this platform thinking he was on the right side of the war. That he had been chosen because he was special. That he showed promise. That he could prove himself and bring pride to his parents if he could just complete one task. 

It was foolish, obviously. The wishful, naive thinking of a child. His mouth twitched into a spiteful frown. He knew now that it was all a means to punish his family- his father. He was never meant to succeed. He was meant to die trying to murder the most powerful wizard of their time. 

But he hadn’t. And after the Astronomy Tower, everything had changed. He spent half of that summer bitter and furious and terrified while trapped with Severus Snape in a safe house somewhere in the mountains of Leitrim Ireland. After the fall of the Ministry, he was able to return to Malfoy Manor and reunite with his parents only to discover The Dark Lord had taken up residence in their home. On the days he was lucky he was able to avoid being spoken to. On the days he wasn’t lucky he was punished. He didn’t always know what he was being punished for, but a Crucio felt the same no matter the reason so it didn't matter. 

Suddenly a crack pierced the quiet. Draco flinched hard, jerking around to see a young man had joined him on the platform. He recognized him as a Ravenclaw in his year, with the surname Rivers. They hadn’t had much interaction, except for being partnered together in Potions during their Fourth Year. Draco watched as the dark-haired boy looked around the platform before spotting him and doing a double-take. His face would have been comical if not for the sight of him immediately drawing his wand 

“Oi, the hell are you doing here?” the Ravenclaw shouted. Draco eyed the wand pointed at him. 

“Same as you, I reckon,” Draco stated as disinterestedly as he could, ignoring the adrenaline still racing in his veins at the sound of the other wizard's sudden arrival. “A complete and well-rounded education is very important to have in our society, after all.” he drawled sarcastically. 

Rivers’ eyes narrowed slightly and his frown deepened. “Can’t say we run in the same societies, Malfoy.”

Draco scowled but ignored the barb. “I’m here to see McGonagall, at her request. I’d rather not be late if you don’t mind lowering your wand.” 

Rivers’ face crinkled with confusion, his wand arm drooping. “You’re here to see-?” 

Both wizards nearly jumped out of their skin as a second crack filled the air and a figure appeared between them. Another student in their year Draco vaguely recognized, a Hufflepuff this time, named Sally Smith. She huffed a sigh and dropped down onto her trunk, looking exhausted. She reached up to brush her fringe from her eyes and took notice of her companions with a startled shriek. “Bloody-!” They watched as she toppled backward from her trunk and landed in a tangle of black robes and limbs. 

Draco moved forward to offer his hand without thinking, but she scrambled back on the stone to avoid his reach. “Don’t touch me!” He stopped abruptly, feeling his cheeks pinken and stuffing his hands into his pockets forcefully. He looked away pointedly while Rivers helped Smith right herself. 

Rivers spoke again after a minute, taking a curious step around Smith to move closer to Draco. “You said McGonagall called you here?” 

He bit back his snarky retort. He hated repeating himself. “Yes,” he snapped. 

Rivers barked out an incredulous laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. Is she mad? I figured they’d have to pick a Slytherin, but _you_?” 

Draco tried to keep the confusion from his face. He crossed his arms. “What are you on about?”

Rivers shook his head in disbelief. “Merlin, all that Dark Magic scramble your brains or something? You at least used to be fairly intelligent, mate.” 

His face flushed further with his annoyance. “I’d watch your mouth if I were you, _mate_.”

The other boy glared, wand tight in his hand again. Draco’s own wand was still in his pocket, he realized belatedly. He had gotten used to not being able to use it. That was a habit he’d need to break out of immediately.

The promise he made to his mother steadied his temper. He needed to be smart. Getting into a dual before he even made it to the castle wasn’t going to help. He put his hands up, palms out. “Look,” he said in what he hoped was a placating tone. “I’m just here to get through the year and sit my NEWTs, alright? I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

“You’re here because you have to be,” Smith stated, scowling. At least she didn’t have her wand out. “It was in the paper over the summer. You had to come back here as part of your probation. All the parents were in an uproar, petitioning at the Ministry all summer. But here you are.”

Draco fought to keep his face impassive. “Here I am,” he agreed. “And I’ve got to go meet with the Headmistress-”

“To discuss House unity, right Malfoy?” Rivers cut in, shaking his head, tone suggesting he was missing something obvious.

Draco felt his eyebrows furrow, casting around inwardly to understand. He took inventory of the situation: He was on the platform, following McGonagall’s instructions to come for a meeting. With a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who seemed to be doing… the same…? But McGonagall hadn't given him much information on his duties, but it would appear there were ambassadors from each House... This was about “unity” after all. Of course, there would have to be other positions involved. He just hadn't bothered to give it much thought. Draco had just assumed it was more of a clever ruse from the Headmistress to keep him from getting offed in his bed at night.

So they were waiting on a Gryffindor. Logic would suggest they would be from his year. He couldn't think of a single Gryffindor that wouldn't Stupify him on sight. Splendid.

His face must have soured because Rivers snorted loudly. “Right, now he’s with us. Hey, maybe it’ll be Harry Potter. I heard he wasn’t coming back this year, but if Malfoy is here anyone could be coming right?”

Draco felt his stomach plummet. What if it was _Potter_? He had no intention of having to face him anytime soon, especially after Potter had testified on his behalf at the trial. Draco thought maybe, someday he’d reach out to the wizard and thank him for what he’d done. When he was older and wiser and time had dulled the memory. Presently the idea of having to do it was overwhelming. And bloody embarrassing.

Another crack filled the air and Draco didn’t have to spend another moment wondering who the Gryffindor representative would be. His gaze shot over and he nearly swallowed his tongue whole.

It definitely wasn’t Potter.

He'd rather Potter, honestly.

With bushy hair blowing in the wind and two large books held tightly to her body, Hermione Granger looked almost exactly the same as the last time he’d seen her. Except now her face wasn't littered with scrapes and slices and dried blood.

Somehow it was him that she locked eyes with first. He was assaulted with images of being surrounded by fire in The Room of Hidden Things and the echoing sound of her tortured screams while her skin was carved open on his drawing-room floor. As quickly as it started it stopped and he sucked in a sharp breath as his senses cleared. His eyes fell to her covered arm unconsciously before quickly looking away.

If she was surprised to see him there she didn’t show it. Still, Draco couldn’t stop himself from wincing when she pulled out her wand and gave it a flick. He was relieved when each of their trunks lifted into the air and pack themselves into one of two carriages pulled by Thestrals waiting along the side of the platform. “We should get a move on, or we’ll be late,” she said simply, before walking over to the other carriage.

Draco exchanged looks with the other two 8th year students, who looked as gobsmacked as he felt before they moved to follow her. With no other choice, Draco did the same.

As he climbed into the carriage he found the remaining seat was the one next to Granger. He hesitated a moment before cautiously sitting down, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. The last thing he needed was to give her any reason to think another person in his family would touch her. Once he was seated the carriage gave a jerk forward and began the journey to the castle. The silence between them all grew awkward and stilted within seconds.

“So Hermione,” Smith said with a smile. “What brings you back to Hogwarts? I’m sure you could have gone right into Auror training right? I heard that’s what Harry and Ron did.”

Granger’s eyes didn’t leave the window. “Yes, I reckon I could have. However, contrary to popular belief, I’m not interested in being an Auror. In fact, I’ve dealt with enough Dark wizards and witches to last me a lifetime. More than enough, actually.”

“Oh,” Smith managed, flushing slightly. Draco didn't miss the look furtive look the blonde sent his way. “I'm sorry, I suppose I just assumed-”

Granger cleared her throat and gave her head a small shake. She turned to look at Smith with a forced smile. “No, that was rude, I’m sorry. It's just a bit of a sore subject. You’re right. I was offered a position in the training program but I declined. I’m quite interested in taking the NEWT exams before making any career decisions. I can always apply to go into training next year instead if I change my mind.”

Smith nodded politely. “Of course,” she turned to Rivers, clearly not wanting to ask Granger anything else. “Do you have any plans? After Hogwarts?”

Rivers shrugged. “I have an idea or two I fancy, but nothing concrete yet.”

“My family owns Sugarplum Sweets in Diagon Alley, so I’ll be working there after graduating,” Smith revealed excitedly. Draco noted that no one had actually asked her about her plans. “I’ll be helping create new confections too, which should be very interesting! I’m hoping another full year of Advance classes in Potions and Charms will help me get the creative juices flowing, you know?”

Draco was beginning to get the feeling he’d be fighting the instinct to roll his eyes as much here as he had back at the Manor. He kept his thoughts to himself though and looked out the window. No one asked about his after-school plans. Smith tried to pull the others into a conversation a few more times on the most excruciating carriage ride of Draco’s life before giving up. The rest of the trip was quiet. His thighs were burning a little from the constant strain of keeping his body pressed to the wall. After what felt like an eternity they slowed to a stop and Draco immediately leapt out. In the most dignified manner possible.

The others filed out after him and he didn’t wait more than a second before he turned and swept up the stairs, making his way into the castle. He turned and began climbing the staircases towards where he knew the Headmistress’ office was. He refused to stay in place or look around. If he thought about anything too much Draco was sure he’d lose his nerve. He was already at a disadvantage, he couldn’t afford to show any weaknesses.

Before long he was staring at the stone gargoyle on the third floor, Granger next to him, as the other two rushed to catch up from down the hall. The Slytherin and the Gryffindor didn’t look at each other while they waited for their classmates, but the tension filling the space between them was palpable. When Rivers and Smith reached them a few seconds later Draco opened his mouth to provide the password (_Animagus_) when Granger beat him to it. He frowned, glancing at the back of her head as she moved past him and up the spiral staircase.

_Swotty know-it-all_, he thought irritably.

Draco stalked up the staircase behind her, still grumbling internally as he entered McGonagall’s office. The Headmistress was seated behind her desk, reading over several pieces of parchment. She peered briefly at the four students over her square spectacles before returning her eyes to her paperwork. After a brief twitch of her wand, four chairs appeared in front of her desk. “Thank you all for coming, please have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Draco made his way to the chair furthest from the door and sat, discreetly rubbing his sweaty palms over his robes. This already complicated day wasn’t going how he hoped at all.

McGonagall put her parchment down after another minute and addressed them again. “I appreciate each of you being available to arrive early for this short meeting. As you are all aware, you have been selected to aid our staff in assisting your classmates during this transitional period. The war against Voldemort-” Draco saw Smith flinch violently out of the corner of his eye in her seat beside him. “-has ended. However, this war has touched every individual’s life in one way or another. No one is immune from that pain or suffering. Everyone has lost someone. Everyone has done things that they are ashamed of.” She paused, letting the words ring in the silence of the room. “Our goal is to foster a sense of community within these walls, for all of Hogwarts students. It is no secret that Slytherin House will have the animosity of many turned on it. I can not make myself clear enough: Violence of any nature will not be tolerated. Each student is here to learn, and I will allow nothing to compromise that. The four of you, in addition to your classes, will be tasked with generating and executing ideas that will bring our school together. We are moving into a new era, and while I would never suggest that we forget what has happened to get us here it is imperative that we begin moving forward.”

“Ma’am?” Rivers said, his hand lifted briefly to indicate he had a question. “How are we to enforce something like this? We can’t very well dictate how the students feel. Forgiveness or-or _ acceptance _ even- it isn’t something to be mandated. I would imagine everyone will have to reach that on their terms, wouldn't they?”

“They would, Mr. Rivers,” McGonagall agreed. “All I can ask is that you lead by example. Your task is to encourage civility. I do not expect all of our students will be open to that immediately, but it's my hope that you all will be able to assist in creating an environment that will promote inter-house unity." She paused a moment before sighing and leaning forward with her hands clasped together on her large desk. "Let me be quite plain: You are a task force responsible for planning and executing events and actives over the course of this school year designed to encourage students to comingle and have... fun."

Draco wondered if the word "fun" had ever left McGonagall's mouth before. Even the word itself sounded dry leaving her tongue.

"Is there a number of these events you'd like us working toward, Headmistress?" Granger asked. Draco couldn't stop himself from looking over at her. He was unsurprised to see a quill running across a bit of parchment in front of her, presumably taking notes.

"The timeline can be created and altered amongst yourselves. I'll follow up with you periodically on your progress as you submit your ideas to me for official approval. I imagine you will be able to plan this around your schedules without the need for a formal timetable created by myself or another staff member. You'll have your shared space of course, which you can utilize for meetings with the most ease. However, if you require a larger space I will reserve specific-"

Draco sat up straighter, cutting in. "Our _shared_ space?" he questioned sharply. The whole bloody point of this was to have his own quarters so he didn't get maimed in his sleep! He gritted his teeth as McGonagall met his eyes with a rather unimpressed look at being interrupted. He could feel the eyes of the others on him. He pressed his lips together to keep from sneering. "My apologies, Headmistress, I was just surprised. When we spoke previously about this position you had mentioned that I- _ we _would have private dormitories. Is that no longer the circumstances?"

The woman across the desk eyed him in a way that suggested she was long-suffering. Draco's mouth twitched in the effort to keep from mirror her. "Those are very much the circumstances, Mr. Malfoy. Allow me to expand on the details. You will each have your own private sleeping quarters, as we discussed, on the fourth floor. You'll find the entrance on the fourth-floor corridor between two large vases. There is no portrait, but the doorknob has been enchanted to only open at your touches. In the event of an emergency, any staff member will also have the ability to enter. The door will open into your shared common room and from there you will find your individual dormitories. Gentleman down the hall to the right and ladies the hall to the left. Mr. Malfoy will share a lavatory with Mr. Rivers while Miss Granger and Miss Smith will share another." she paused pointedly and leveled a severe look at the Slytherin._ "_Are there any other questions I can answer in regards to your living arrangements?"

Draco folded his arms, grunting out a vague negative sound that would have his mother pinching him. What a load of rubbish. Rivers was going to blow his bollocks off in the toilets or something. 

"Wonderful, with that settled, let's continue," McGonagall stated curtly. Her eyes darted down over one of the parchments in front of her. "Just a final note to go over. As part of our leadership team, you will each also have access to the Prefects' bathroom. Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, as former Prefects you are both aware of the amenities available. Miss Smith, Mr. Rivers you are free to explore it at your convenience. It's located on the fifth floor behind the fourth door to the left of a statue of Boris the Bewildered. The password is _ Morning Meadow_. Now, at this time there are roughly three-quarter hours until the rest of the students arrive. You are free to use that time to get settled in. Be sure to arrive in the Great Hall on time for the Start of Term Feast. If there are no further questions..." She trailed purposefully. When no one said anything she gave a brisk nod. "You're dismissed."

Draco pushed to his feet, brushing nonexistent lint from his robes out of habit as he left the office without looking at anyone. He didn't speak as Smith chattered incessantly on the way to the fourth floor. He followed behind Granger until they reached a plain, inconspicuous wooden door next to a pair of ornate vases that was at least five feet tall. He slipped through the door, nearly smacking into the back of the Gryffindor when she stopped abruptly.

"For Salazar's sake-" he snapped, halting only to have Rivers run into the back of him. Draco stumbled forward into Granger and they went tumbling to the floor. She let out a yelp as they went down and Draco narrowly avoided landing on top of her by careening to the side. His elbow and shoulder took the brunt of the fall while she caught herself on her hands and knees. 

"Merlin, did he shove her or something?" Smith said, sounding horrified. Draco tore his eyes from Granger's bum in the air (where it had only been for a fraction of a second, maybe, and obviously by mistake) to looked over to see Smith standing on her toes to peer over River's shoulder.

"Hardly-" he snarled, face hot as he picked himself up.

"I ran into him," Rivers admitted immediately. "But only because you stopped like that!"

"Only because bloody _ Granger _stopped!" He said frustratedly as he rubbed his smarting elbow. Glaring stormily at the brunette in question who was also on her feet again, he saw that she wasn't even paying attention. She was still staring around the room and Draco followed her line of sight to the walls. Each of the four walls had a single portrait of a different animal on it: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake. The ceiling was easily 5 meters from the floor and with the except of the portraits every square inch between was covered in bookshelves teeming with countless volumes.

He rolled his eyes, face still warm from embarrassment. "I understand your incessant need to be a know-it-all is often consuming, Granger, but-"

"You do not want to start on me, Malfoy," Granger snapped, eyes flashing to him dangerously. Her poised, perfect, unflappable facade cracking at the first barb he'd thrown her way. Hardly commonplace, as she was generally the one dragging Potter and her ginger oaf away from altercations. Except for the time she'd hit him in Third Year.

Draco mused that they were lucky to have gotten this far without speaking. It was a good thing, as it wouldn't have looked good for him to pick at her in front of McGonagall. But some habits were harder to break than others and he could already feel the sneer curling his lips. He opened his mouth to say something scalding when he was distracted by a shift in her posture. She clenched her fists, tilted her chin up, and set her jaw as she stared him down. It was like she was readying herself to defend against a physical attack. Suddenly he saw a flash of her sweaty, crying while Aunt Bella tortured her. Her jaw was tight in the exact same way.

The words died on his tongue. He straightened his back and bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to prompt the tangy taste of copper in his mouth. After another heartbeat of meeting her furious expression, he sidestepped her and strode across the room to the hallway on the right with his heart hammering.

He leaned against the wall once he knew he was out of sight. A harsh breath rushed past his lips. That was the second time that had happened now. He'd seen many people tortured. Hell, how many had he himself been forced to torture? He had hardly been able to look at Granger when it was happening, just a handful of glances before he couldn’t bring himself to look any longer while her screams rang in his ears. It was her that haunted him though.

Draco steadied himself, forcefully redirecting his thoughts. He'd have to avoid her whenever he could, that's all there was to it. He just needed to make it through the year.

No distractions. No trouble. No Azkaban.

Just NEWTS.

And bloody House Unity.

He glowered petulantly. _ Bollocks. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a long chapter here, hopefully it's not too clunky. We get to see one of my favorite duos in this story interact more, Oliver (Rivers) and Draco, in the first scene and then we're off to the feast, where unsurprisingly no one is happy to see our favorite Slytherin. Happy reading!

At the end of the narrow corridor leading to his dorm was a picture of a surly looking man. Just before him on either side were two doors. The one on the left had the initials DM elegantly engraved on a silver plate while the one on the right side had the initials OR transcribed similarly. Draco eyed the man in the portrait curiously as he came to a stop.

The man scowled at Draco; Draco scowled back.

He turned the knob on his door and push into the room a smidge more aggressively than strictly called for and the door bounced loudly against the wall. He ignored the aggravated huff from the portrait behind him and took inventory of the room.

There was a large fourposter on the far side of the room with lush navy bedding, easily twice as big as the beds in the regular dorms. There was a modest wood desk tucked in the corner by the door and a chest of drawers against the wall across from it. It was much smaller than his bedroom in the Manor but he was impressed with the space he'd been given, all things considered. He'd likely be spending quite a lot of time here; he was thankful he'd be comfortable.

He made his way over to his trunk where it was resting at the foot of the bed and flipped the latches. Absorbed in the task of carefully pulling out his belongings and laying each on the bed as he sorted them, he failed to notice the figure leaning in his doorway until a voice startled him.

"I think your room is bigger than mine."

Draco's head swung around to find Rivers eyeing the room critically with a frown. He felt his eyes veer into a roll before he turned back to his clothes, ignoring the other boy. The Ravenclaw didn't seem bothered by the blonde's disinterest. He spun the chair around from the desk and dropped down into it.

At the sound of the legs scraping against the floor Draco abandoning his business to glare at the intruder. "Generally speaking, one waits until they’re invited into a room before entering." he snarked.

Rivers raised a brow. "Were you planning on inviting me in?"

"Of course not."

"Poor manners marks for you too then, innit?" Rivers pointedly made himself more comfortable in his seat with a cheeky grin, balancing on the back legs.

Draco folded his arms, expression flat and guarded. "What do you want?"

Rivers waved his hand vaguely. "I'm figuring we should try and get this started, right?"

"Get what started?"

The other boy made an impatient sound. "Inter-House Unity, Malfoy. Keep up. We're to lead by example."

Draco scoffed. "Out there maybe," he gestured out the door. "I highly doubt we need to be bosom buddies in here."

"Well, I can hardly sell to the school that you're not a murderous raving lunatic without knowing anything about you that proves the contrary."

Draco groaned his annoyance and turned away to start placing his foldable laundry into the drawers. "Sodding Ravenclaws," he grumbled, loudly enough for his company to hear. "Not everything is a bloody assignment. You don't need to write 10 inches on the pros of not hexing me in the corridors."

"I'd be lucky to get two inches down at this rate," Rivers chided. He mimed writing in the air. "Not getting detention... Keeping House points in the case of your inevitable tattling... Saving wrist strength for wanking... And... yes, I'm out." He dropped his arm.

Draco gave him a disgusted look. "We've exchanged fewer than a handful of sentences and you're talking about wanking. You're officially winning the Poor Manner contest again."

Rivers snickered. "Merlin, don't be such a prude. Everyone has a good wank now and then."

"If you could kindly get to the point, it would be greatly appreciated." Draco gritted out.

"I'm just saying we're going to be living across the hall from each other; no hard feelings if we forget a Silencing Charm on occasion, you know-?"

Draco leveled a dark look across the room. "You forget your Silencing Charm and I'm going to feed you to the Giant Squid."

Rivers smirked. "That wouldn't promote much House Unity, Malfoy."

"The school would be very unified as they gathered about the Lake to watch your misfortune in fascinated horror."

The dark-haired boy snorted. "Alright, fair point. Regardless, tell me something about yourself that makes you less of a smarmy git."

"No," Draco said stubbornly. "Why are you even here? You had your wand pointed at me just an hour ago. Something change without my notice?"

Rivers sighed, leaning forward to right the chair with a clatter. Draco's eye twitched in irritation at the loud unnecessary sound. "I’m sorry about that- earlier, at the platform. It was instinctive. We’re all going to have to work on our old prejudices, I suppose.” He paused but Draco said nothing. “And, well, you could have started in on Granger in the common room, right? But you didn't. You walked away. To come in here and fold your silky knickers apparently, but that's neither here nor there.”

“It’s only a matter of time before Granger and I have it out,” he warned, ignoring Rivers’ joke. It wasn’t as if he walked away from her out of kindness, but if Rivers wanted to take it that way it could only benefit Draco. Besides, a blow-up with Granger was inevitable with the amount of bad blood there. No pun intended. Having Rivers on his side wouldn’t be the worst thing if it came down to a “he said/she said” situation.

“Regardless, outside of being a testy little Blast-Ended Skrewt, you haven't actually done anything particularly off-putting thus far. So I wanted to give you a chance-"

Draco's patience frayed and he set his eyes on his classmate. "Look, I'm not going to make up a bunch of nonsense to get you like me, Rivers. I'm a convicted Death Eater. I did horrible things. I don't have a pretty story to make it sound better than it was. I did what I had to. I don't care what you or anyone else thinks about it. We're not mates. Your only obligation is to not openly hex me. 

"So I can hex you, just not openly?"

Draco groaned in frustration. Maybe the Ravenclaw wasn’t the best ally. "Have you always been this annoying? Was I just blissfully unaware because I didn't have to see your doughy face every day?"

"I'm just trying to adjust my expectations. I thought we'd be making best mate bracelets this evening. Or some intricate daisy chains. What am I supposed to do with all that free time now?" Rivers tapped his chin with consideration. "Have a wank maybe?"

Draco barely held back a surprised bark of laughter. "Sod off,"

Rivers stood, stretching his arms high above his head before moving for the door. "Listen, I’m just saying: we're stuck with each other for the year. It'd be nice to make it as painless as possible." He stuck his head back in briefly with an overindulgent smile. "Besides, this conversation has taught me you're surprisingly witty. I anticipate many amusing exchanges of banter in our future."

"Can't wait," Draco groused half-heartedly, moving on to placing his knick-knacks and posters around the room with precision.

Later when Draco emerged into the common room again he was surprised to see the other three Leads waiting for him. He halted, looking at them suspiciously.

"About time," Smith muttered, throwing her _ Witch Weekly _down on the table. "We were going to be late for the feast if you took any longer."

Draco frown. "I didn't ask you to wait for me."

Rivers grinned. "You think we want to miss the student population getting their first look at you?"

The blonde's frown deepened. He gave Rivers an unamused look but made no further comment. His heart rate spiked with anxiety and he flexed his fingers as his eyes fell to the final occupant in the room.

Granger stayed silent, not even looking at him as she got to her feet and led the way out the door. Draco threw a dirty look at her back for something familiar to do before following behind Smith and Rivers.

As they walked Draco gripped his wand in his pocket, though still unsure how he'd be able to use it in a duel. Still, it was nice to know it was there.

When they turned the corner Draco still wasn't prepared to see the Entrance Hall full of people. Students were filing through the archway nosily, all chattering to each other with excitement. A girl who looked to be a 4th or 5th Year in Gryffindor robes made eye contact with him. Her eyes widened before she turned to her friend and began whispering and pointing down the corridor at the approaching 8th Years.

The students somehow grew quieter and louder at the same time as his group drew closer. It was a hundred whispers suddenly converging together into an incohesive hiss of white noise. The stares were filled with shock and fear and confusion and outrage and Draco fought hard to keep his expression unreadable. He swallowed hard. He could feel his palms sweating and his head began to ache with how loudly his heart was thudding in his ears.

Hermione Granger's back was in front of him then, making her way through the throngs of gossipers. Smith slipped in behind her and Rivers clapped his arm in a deceptively friendly manner as he urged Draco to follow her. He hadn't realized he'd stopped walking. He moved swiftly to fall in a step behind Smith and Rivers fell into place at the rear.

They reached the mouth of the Great Hall and Granger turned to them. The surrounding students gave the four Leads a wide berth, scuttling around them and craning their necks to see what was happening. Granger glanced around and then offered a brisk nod to the group before turning and making her way to the Gryffindor table.

A beat passed. "Well, see you after," Smith said, pushing her fringe out of her face to meet each boy's eyes briefly. Then she made her way to her House's table as well. Rivers and Draco exchanged a final look before separating.

Draco took a steadying breath through his nose as he walked toward the Slytherin table. It looked sparser than the other House's but the faces that turned toward him all showed the same varying degrees of disgust and distrust. He took a seat on the bench towards the end of the table closest to the professors. This was partly strategic since he could view the whole Hall without anyone coming up behind him. And it'd be foolish to attack him right under the professor's noses. It also worked out nicely for the part of him valiantly battling his nerves as it was several seats from any other student. He could feel eyes on him from all directions but kept his gaze resolutely on his empty plate and fidgeted with the silverware.

Before long, when all of the students seemed to have arrived, McGonagall stood and called for quiet before tiny Professor Flitwick led in a herd of First Years to be sorted. After two names were called Draco had already started to lose interest- until the first Slytherin of the night was sorted.

"Fawley, Jebediah!"

After four and a half minutes of deliberation, the hat finally called out its decision. The rest of the hall was quiet for a moment and Draco could understand why. While the Fawley family was technically one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight there hadn't been a Slytherin among them in centuries. They were all Hufflepuffs with a spare Gryffindor now and then from what he could recall. Draco looked at the boy, who looked utterly petrified. The poor badger was going to get eaten alive in the snake pit.

The professor gave Fawley a nudge and the child slid off the stool shakily. The little blonde made his way over to the Slytherin table and, to his distaste, sat right in front of Draco. He watched the boy glance at him quickly before he looked away again, thoroughly shellshocked. Draco's nose wrinkled for a moment before returning his attention to the sorting.

Slytherin received only five more students: two boys and three girls. It was a record low. Draco couldn't think of a time when there had been any less than ten new First Years. Two of the girls and one of the boys clearly knew others in the House and quickly found places with them further down the table. The other boy and girl, however, joined Jebediah Fawley in sitting with Draco. He tried to glare at them but it seemed to have been overshadowed by his complete bewilderment. Before he could get a handle on himself to tell them all to budge up and get lost McGonagall stood.

"I'd like to welcome all of our First Year students to their first Start of Term Feast. And to all our returning students, welcome back. I'll be addressing multiple items at the conclusion of dinner, but for now, in the words of the great Albus Dumbledore: tuck in."

Food blossomed all around the Great Hall and the chatter filled the room again. Draco began placing roast chicken on his plate from the tray in front of him only to glance up and see three pairs of eyes on him. He paused, frowning, and rose a brow slowly.

The first to sit down, Fawley, sat up straighter and extended his hand to Draco formally. "Hello, my name is Jebediah Fawley."

Draco flicked his eyes down to the boy's hand and back again. He made no move to take it and had a flashback to his first exchange with Potter. "Yes, I'm aware." he drawled, shaking the memory as he put his fork down and moved on to collect a helping of potatoes.

Fawley lowered his hand back to his lap, looking embarrassed. The girl next to him, apparently not one to be deterred, piped up next. "I'm Emma Porter," she said. "And this is Archie Rivers."

"Rivers?" Draco repeated with a pause. "Are you related to the Rivers in my year?"

"My brother," the boy said, squinting at Draco curiously. He looked a bit like Rivers in the face, both round and a little freckled. "Oliver's back for his last year, he missed this past one. He's a Ravenclaw."

Draco nodded but said nothing else as he pushed carrots against his mashed potatoes. He wondered idly why Rivers hadn't come back the previous year. Draco had been under the impression that Hogwarts had been made mandatory under the Dark Lord's reign. Unless the He was having his nightly tea in your sitting room that is.

He reached out to take a sip of his pumpkin juice to find the three children still staring at him. A scowl twisted his lips. "What are you lot looking at?"

Emma Porter leaned forward, her long auburn braids brushing against the empty plate in front of her. "Well who're you?" she asked impatiently.

His eyebrows flew into his hairline. Draco hadn't realized they wouldn't know who he was. His face had been in the papers. It made more sense now, them sitting here. He figured they'd scurry away and let him have his dinner in relative peace now. "Draco Malfoy."

Admittedly, it had an effect similar to what he was expecting. All three gasped and leaned away, which might have made the Draco-of-fifteen feel pretty wicked but instead formed a bit of a pit in the Draco-of-now's stomach. Since when had being feared not brought him a sense of pride?

"Li-like _ the _ Draco Malfoy?" Baby Rivers asked, looking horrified. He lowered his voice further. "Like the _ Death Eater _ one?"

Draco's gut twisted a little further. Maybe the food was bad? He cleared his throat. "Yes,"

"Do you still have the... the thing on your arm? _ His _thing?" Emma asked, looking back and forth between his covered arms with a look torn somewhere between panic and fascination. "I read that they all have ghastly marks from him!"

A grimace coated his face but before he could formulate a response Archie Rivers shoved her harshly. "Don't ask him that! What if he does and shows it to us?" he turned to Draco. "Sir, please, I don't want to see it."

"I wasn't going to show it to you little gits anyway," Draco snapped, appalled. Honestly, the _audacity_.

"But you _do _have it?" the girl said, eyes round.

Draco gave her a flat look. "Right. You lot can either be quiet or bugger off before I chuck you to the Whomping Willow."

The threat seemed to do the trick as the children all started filling their plates quietly, but the silence was short-lived. After the food was cleared Fawley shot a furtive glance at Draco before whispering, "Sorry, but what's a Whomping Willow?"

It was a testament to his ever-dwindling patience that he didn't slam his head against the table while the other two argued over their theories.

Thankfully McGonagall stood again to issue her speech. "As I'm sure all of you are aware, the past several months have been spent rectifying the damage incurred to our school during the Battle of Hogwarts. While we have done our very best to aid in the repair process there are certain areas of the castle that can only achieve restoration in its own time. That being said, there are staircases and corridors that you will see are either warded off or only partially accessible. This is for your safety and anyone attempting to break through those wards for any reason will be decidedly unhappy with the results." she paused, giving the Hall a severe look for a moment. A little unnecessary in Draco's opinion because why go breaking through wards separating you from a six-floor drop?

But then again, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs weren't always the brightest. Draco snickered to himself at the thought.

The Headmistress continued to introduce two new faculty members. First, the new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Dawson, was young and burly with a styled mop of dark hair. Even several seats away from anyone except the First Years Draco could hear several girls whispering and giggling already about how handsome he was. The second was Professor Hunt an older, formidable-looking gentleman with a large handlebar mustache that was taking up the DADA position. After that, she listed several Weasley Wizard Wheezes products that were prohibited on school grounds before moving on. "Finally, we are also happy to welcome back a handful of individuals looking to further their education who were unable to do so last year. We have selected a member of each House from the pool of these 8th Year students as Leadership ambassadors to assist in some special events we're planning for this school year. Would the four of you please stand?"

Draco blanched. They hadn't discussed this. His mother's words rang in his ears. _ Avoid drawing any additional attention to yourself. _ This was a terrible idea. _ Anything you do will be turned against you. _ Right, no. He certainly wasn't going to stand.

He chanced a glance around and saw to his dismay Smith slowly rising, her cheeks brilliantly red. Rivers was standing already too, smiling and looking very at ease. His eyes scanned the Gryffindor table and found Granger sitting next to Dean Thomas with her eyes already on him. She gave him a pointed look before pushing herself to her feet, cocking a brow at him. He was torn between wanting no part in this and not wanting Granger to think he was a coward. More than she already did anyway. He glared at her and then glared at McGonagall too for good measure.

He got to his feet and the Hall grew quiet again. For about 4 seconds-

"This is rubbish!" a boy yelled.

"We have to listen to _him_?" hissed a Slytherin several seats down.

"Death Eaters belong in _ Azkaban_, not Hogwarts!" someone else shouted.

The yelling came from all directions and Draco was proud that he kept his face expressionless. Then there was a flash of red suddenly and the pumpkin juice pitcher in front of Draco exploded. The Porter girl screamed. Draco pulled his wand but several shocks of assorted colors came hurtling toward him too quickly and he braced for the impact. But it didn't come. The lights hit an invisible barrier, absorbing the spells. Draco sighed in relief, looking up at McGonagall to find it wasn't her wand trained in his direction. None of the teachers were holding the shield. They were all flurrying to intercept the casters causing a scene. A Hufflepuff had his wand out and another two students at the Gryffindor table were being snatched and hauled out of the room by various professors.

And there was Granger, standing with her wand trained his way to keep the shield she erected in place even with no other spells coming his way. Draco's jaw physically dropped in his surprise.

"That will be quite enough," McGonagall's even voice cut through the noise in the room and silence fell immediately. Draco tore his eyes from Granger to see McGonagall in the same place she had been before the hexes started. Her nostrils were flared and she looked as furious as he'd ever seen her. And he'd seen her enraged plenty of times. His mind bizarrely brought up the memory of dressing up as a Dementor on the Quidditch pitch.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," McGonagall said purposefully. The shield parting Draco's area from the rest of the Hall flickered once, visible for just a fraction of a second, then disappeared as Granger lowered her wand. "Despite all of the changes that have taken place in this castle one rule that remains the same is that violence between students can not and _will n__ot _be tolerated. The individuals that just flagrantly disregarded that rule will receive appropriate punishment for their actions." There was a general grumble of dissatisfaction in the room. "I understand that many of you have lost loved ones and that the frustration and confusion and pain you are suffering from weighs heavily on your shoulders each day. My deepest and most sincere condolences are with each of you struggling. The last several years have been indescribably difficult for many. However, your Slytherin classmates are not to blame. And Draco Malfoy will not be your scapegoat. It would be advisable to keep that in mind as the school year progresses."

Draco's eyes narrowed critically. For a statement in response to a spontaneous act, it certainly sounded well thought out. Rehearsed even.

"That will be all; you are dismissed. Prefects, please gather your First Year students and show them to their dormitories. Goodnight."

Draco didn't move, eyes trained suspiciously on where Granger was swiftly making her way to the Headmistress. Something about this didn't feel right. Granger had been almost too quick with that protective charm.

Like she knew what was going to happen.

"Erm, Mr. Malfoy, are you okay?"

Draco didn't look away from where Granger and McGonagall were speaking in hushed tones. Granger's back was to him, but he could see the Headmistress's face. "I'm fine," he muttered, trying to read the older witch's lips with little success.

"Your wand's sparking an awful lot..."

He glanced down to see that his wand was crackling at the end. Draco swore and relaxed his grip before pocking it again. His grey eyes darted back up to see Granger turning away and striding towards the exit with a distinct downturn to her lips.

Draco charged determinedly after her, making it out to the corridor and halfway up the first flight of steps before getting hit with a Tripping Jinx. He couldn't get his hands out in time to catch himself and ended up cracking his chin on the step. Pain rattled through his jaw and blood filled his mouth from where his teeth bit down on his lip.

Pushing himself to his feet he spun around, his wand in hand and eyes searching for the attacker. He heard laughter and running footsteps around the opposite corner from where he was headed. With his fists clenched even tighter than his jaw Draco straighten his spine, spat a mouthful of blood on the floor, and continued moving towards to Leads' common room.

Luckily he didn't run into any other incidents. All other students he passed hurriedly moved out of his way. Likely because half his face was covered in blood, but Draco couldn't be sure.

Draco growled at the unassuming door, gripping the knob impatiently before jerking the door open forcefully. The common room was occupied.

"-just saying, we could have waited- Merlin's pants! What happened to your face?" Smith stopped midsentence at the sight of him stalking into the room.

He ignored her, eyes finding Granger. She was seated in an armchair, peering over the top of her book at him. The only reaction she gave to his appearance was her eyes widening the smallest fraction. Then she lifted her book a little higher, covering her eyes with the volume as she presumably went back to reading. Her voice floated across the room to him casually. "You've got something on your chin, Malfoy."

Draco gaped at her, stunned into silence, more blood dribbling down his face. He composed himself a second later. "What are you playing at Granger? What was that in the Great Hall?"

Still, she stayed behind her book. Though Draco saw her forehead reddening slightly. "That's a strange way to thank someone for saving you a trip to the Hospital Wing."

"Saving me a trip to the- _ Are you mad?_"

Rivers and Smith watched the exchange as though it were a tennis match, heads swiveling back and forth. They seemed to have both deemed it wise to stay quiet for the moment.

Granger lowered her book again, giving him a distinctly uppity look and continuing like he hadn't spoken. "I suppose I'm not surprised; it wouldn't be the first time I've saved your life this year and you neglected to thank me for it."

Draco hated himself for looking gobsmacked by her comment. He was sure that's why she looked so pleased right now. But bringing The Room of Hidden Things up! How was he supposed to respond to that?

He chose to deflect. "We're discussing the rubbish in the Great Hall, Granger. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No," she said disinterestedly, bringing her book back up in front of her face. "I don't think I do."

"Probably has something to do with McGonagall offering him up like a plump meat skewer." Rivers muttered to Smith. "What was that about anyway?"

"She was just introducing us," Smith said quietly, face scrunching to show her displeasure at the Ravenclaw's insinuation.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Draco accused the Gryffindor, testing his theory. He stormed over to Granger and ripped the book out of her hand, tossing it on the table behind him. She opened her mouth, looking livid, but she made a choking sound when he put a hand on either arm of her chair, leaning down until he was nose to nose with her. "You shot the first spell." 

"Get out of my face, Malfoy," she warned, chin tilting the same way it did that afternoon. Like she was steeling herself for a fight. Draco forced his mind away from the flashback to his drawing-room this time.

"That's not a denial." he hissed, frustration split: half at her and half at himself. He focused on the witch in front of him. He'd deal with himself later. "You and McGonagall cook that little show up together?" he pushed. "Throw the first spell and then once it's open season on me you swoop in like the heroes?" 

"Back off, Malfoy, or I swear-"

"You'll what?" he taunted, taking in the fire flashing in her irises and ignoring every warning sign with it. "Stun me? Wouldn't be your first attempt today, would it?"

"Malfoy, maybe you should-" Rivers said hesitantly, moving towards them.

"Don't tempt me, Malfoy," the brunette snapped.

"By all means, Granger, knock yourself out. As you can see, you'll be one of many in line."

Granger's wand was out, pressing against his chest and forcing him back a step as she stood. Draco felt his mouth go dry. A handful of frantic heartbeats later and his eyes followed the motion of her wand moving to point at his face. He held his breath. Would she actually curse him?

"_Tergeo,_" she murmured. "_Episkey," _Draco felt the blood siphoned from his face and split skin of his bottom lip knit together. Her eyes ran over his face, Draco numbly assuming she was surveying her work. Finally, she spoke again. "I'm going to bed."

Draco watched as she stepped widely around him to get her book, whipped her bushy brown head around, and disappeared down the hall to the girls' dormitories.

The silence echoed in the common room. Draco touched his dry face tenderly, unable to pull his eyes away from the dark corridor.

Smith cleared her throat after another minute. "I think I'll go to bed too. Erm, goodnight then."

The Slytherin and Ravenclaw looked at each other and the latter gave a little cough.

"Bet daisy chains don't sound so bad now, do they Malfoy?"

"Fuck off, Rivers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of classes! Thanks for reading, feel free to let me know what you think!
> 
> UPDATE!   
Yeah, I know. It's been a while. I'm sorry. I'll just say life's hard and I'm working on it.  
Which brings me to the update: I'm currently going through and rewriting parts of this story. I've done edits to the chapters before this and made some adjustments to the end of this one. The main changes before this chapter were the removal of any kind of monitoring on Draco's wand as well as some minor adjustments to the Unity Initiative outline. I'll be removing subsequent chapters from AO3 while I'm working on them but I'm hoping to have it all (and new chapters!) up again soon!
> 
> Thank you for the continuous support from those of you that have been reaching out to me in the comments, I really appreciate it.  
Until next time!

Classes began the next day and Draco could hardly keep his eyes open in the morning. He had tossed and turned most of the night and had eventually just given up. He went to the Great Hall to get himself a muffin as the sun rose and Professor Slughorn gave him his timetable before most students had even gotten out of their beds.

"Here you are, m'boy," the walrus of a man said, looking around as if the idea of being seen with Draco made him uncomfortable. "All settled then, off you pop!"

Draco huffed, rolling his eyes from his spot by the lake at the thought. Obviously, his Head of House wouldn't be much of a help to him this year. Not that it was much of a surprise given his track record with Slughorn before the war, but still. Rubbish.

He wasted time out by the lake, plucking blades of grass and feeling the rising sun warm his face when his thoughts turn to Granger for what felt like the millionth time since the previous night.

Draco hadn't been sure if she had the nerve to hex him or not at the time, but he didn't anticipate for even a second she would _help _him. Was it just to distract him from pushing her further about the scene in the Great Hall?

A staged scene, of which he was almost certain he was right about. But the annoyance of being used as, essentially, live bait had lessened in the hours that follow their confrontation. Because to be fair, what had he expected? Being used for McGonagall's agenda was something he had already grudgingly accepted. Perhaps he had assumed he'd be kept in the loop? A naive notion, clearly. But if he was being honest a part of him was inexplicably angrier that Granger was involved. After all, the last thing she needed was to be made into _more _of a hero.

She was being hailed as 'The Brightest Witch of the Age' and 'The Brains of the Golden Trio' in _ The Prophet _regularly. Draco wondered spitefully what that made Weasley.

Certainly not The Looks. Or The Pursestrings.

Eventually, he gathered his things to stand. He cast a quick cleaning spell on his trousers without a second thought. He held his breath, looking around like Aurors were going to fall out of the sky and haul him off. He had gotten so used to not using his wand at the Manor that doing wandwork felt like he was doing something wrong. A surge of anger at the Ministry licked the inside of his veins. They made him into a wizard afraid to use his magic. How fucking fitting.

His fingers clenched around the Hawthorne wood of his wand and he forced a slow exhale through his nose. It didn't matter. None of it matters. He'd sit his NEWTS and... well, he didn't what he'd be able to do afterward. But at least he wouldn't be here. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming, before making his way to the first class of the day and pushing everything else out of his mind.

Draco was taking 6 classes this year: Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. This morning he had Transfiguration first, then DADA, and then Charms after lunch. He couldn't complain; he'd had worse first days.

He was the first to arrive outside the classroom, unsurprisingly. But the door was already open so he poked his head in. Professor Dawson was lazily directing a piece of chalk over the board with his wand, reclined in his seat. He hadn't seen Draco yet and the Slytherin took a moment to survey the man. Now that he was closer he could see that he was very young indeed. Draco would be surprised if he was more than 5 years older than himself. After another moment Draco moved fully into the classroom and placed his bag down beside a seat in the back.

"Oh, hello!" Dawson called, sitting up straighter. His accent sounded American. "Please, pick a seat towards the front. The 8th year class is small; we'll be keepin' it pretty casual and close-quartered."

Draco wrinkled his nose. He wasn't a towards-the-front type of student. He got good grades (damn good) but he wasn't swotty Granger for Merlin's sake. He picked his belongings back up and moved to the second row, off to the side still and doing little to hide his sigh of annoyance. To his credit, the professor didn't rise to Draco's bait and merely turned his attention to the parchments on his desk.

After another ten minutes other students began trickling in groups and pairs. No one took the seat next to Draco or either of the seats in front of him. Blaise and Theo came in at one point, both sparing him unreadable glances in a typical Slytherin fashion before taking their seats. Draco kept the rising flush from his cheeks through sheer force of will.

Rivers came in then, separating from another Ravenclaw and dropped himself in the seat catty-cornered to Draco. "Morning!"

Draco rolled his eyes at his fake sunniness. What a twat. "Good morning," he returned unenthusiastically.

Granger and Smith were the last to come in, Granger looking a bit harassed. Upon seeing the seats open Smith muttered something to the brunette before pulling her over to where Rivers and Draco sat. Smith quickly took the seat next to Draco and he couldn't decide if he was irritated or relieved. Granger sat down in front of him beside Rivers.

Professor Dawson stood, smiling. "That should be everyone, I think. Welcome to your first Transfiguration class, 8th years. I wanted to start today off by going over some of the things we'll be covering this year to prepare you for your finals. We're going to do a little review work for the first few weeks, just so I can see where everyone's at. After that, we'll split the rest of the year down the middle: the first half'll be focusing primarily on Conjuration and the other half on Human Transfigurations. Any questions so far?"

A few hands went up including, predictably, Granger's. Dawson called on Smith first and Draco watched Granger deflate slightly. "Yes, Miss...?"

"Smith, sir, Sally Smith," the Hufflepuff smiled prettily, doe-eyed. Draco fought the urge to gag. "I was wondering, are you American, sir?"

"I guess the lack of a posh accent gives me away?" the man said with a laugh and Smith gave a little giggle. "Yeah, I'm from the States. Born and raised in a little town in the South and all that. Hopefully, you can all forgive me for the little twang."

"It suits you," another girl, a Ravenclaw seated in the front row said, grinning widely. The girl next to her tittered.

The professor gave an awkward little sound that turned into a cough. "Thank you. Any other questions? Yes, what's your name?"

"Kevin Entwhistle," a Hufflepuff Draco never cared to know said. "What topics are part of the review?"

"A bit of everything. I want to see where we've gotten with Switching first, Trans-Species Transformation especially, and then a thorough review on Vanishment before we start on Conjuration. Nothing crazy, just a few essays and some practical assessments so I can verify a good jumping-off point. Miss Granger?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Of course, he already knew _her_ name. "We had begun Human Transfiguration lessons in 6th Year, Professor, mostly on ourselves. Hair color changing, adding marks and freckles, things of that nature? Will we be continuing on that course?"

Dawson looked thoughtful. "We'll certainly start there. I'd like to think that by the end of the year you'll all be able to practice those skills on each other as well. We'll also be exploring inanimate object Human Transfigurations as well."

"But isn't that quite dangerous, sir?" Rivers said.

The professor nodded. "Definitely. Transforming into an inanimate object is, in my opinion, one of the most dangerous topics of Transfiguration. But that's what makes it interesting, right?" Girls around the room giggled and Dawson grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, in all seriousness, you could be stuck that way forever if the spellwork is poor. Those lessons will be less practical than some of our others, but you'll be able to try your hand at the basics of it. Trying is the only way to truly learn something in my experience. Practical application, hands-on stuff, 'cause books can only teach you so much."

Even the back of Granger seemed horrified at the claim that books weren't the end-all of education. Could a posture even be horrified? Why was he taking notice of her bloody posture?

The rest of the class went by as an open discussion about expectations for the year and some personal questions for their teacher that McGonagall never would have entertained, but Draco thought the man not-so-secretly enjoyed the attention. Draco was unimpressed overall, and was ready to take a Stinging Jinx to the face well before the end of class. When it did finally ended Draco gathered his things and started heading to Defence. To his growing irritation, Smith stayed in step with him.

"Professor Dawson seems quite knowledge, doesn't he?" She was swooning. Draco merely grunted. "I wonder if he's taught before, he looked our age, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Draco muttered, willing her to go away.

"You know I don't think we've ever had a real conversation before," she said, looking at him as if that was a huge surprise. Draco himself was not surprised by this statement in the slightest. He didn't converse with Hufflepuffs. "Well, we're sure to talk loads now since we're Leads together. I was telling Hermione the same thing after breakfast, how I never realized how restrictive the Housing system can really be-"

Draco did his best to tune her out, offering agreeing sounds when she looked to him until finally reaching their next class. He quickly said goodbye at the door and lept into the seat next to Rivers.

"Well look who wants to be mates now!"

"Bugger off, I just can't sit next to Smith two classes in a row," Draco grumbled.

"You sure know how to make a bloke feel special," Rivers chuckled.

"Quiet," a voice cut through the chatter sternly. Draco turned to see Professor Hunt striding purposefully to the front of the room. There was no preamble as he began lecturing. "In this class, you will be taught not only about defensive magic but about the Dark Arts themselves. The Dark Arts have been defined as many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Combating such magic is like fighting a many-headed monster. A monster in which each time a neck is severed, a head even fiercer and cleverer than before will sprout in its place. You are fighting against that which is unfixed, mutating, and indestructible. You must be a quick thinker with quicker reflexes. It requires a level head and a resourcefulness that not everyone possesses."

The room was silent, everyone unsure if and how they were supposed to respond to such a statement. It became clear Hunt did not require a response. "Take out your writing utensils. I will provide you with 5 questions and you are going to provide me with your best response and/or defensive course of action."

The 8th Years all scrambled to get their items as their professor eyed them impatiently from behind his desk.

"First scenario: You have encountered a Lethifold. What do you do?"

Bloody hell, Draco wasn't even sure what that was, let alone how to fight it off. He wracked his brain. _ Lethifold... Lethifold... _Draco tried to remember; it sounded familiar. Weren't they similar to Dementors?

"Next," Hunt's voice rang out. Draco hurriedly wrote a hasty answer down for the first question to avoid falling behind. "What are the three Unforgivable Curses and what year were they deemed unforgivable by law?"

Draco darkly thought that at least he'd get one of these questions correct, taking his time writing out his response this time.

"What qualities affect a wizard's ability to perform spellwork nonverbally?"

Draco frowned in thought. Skill, obviously, for one. The type of spell attempted would be a factor. And he remembered reading something about wand types too, vaguely... Yes, he was sure certain types of wood were more susceptible to nonverbal casting.

"If one is practicing the Dark Art of raising the dead, what are they doing and what are they creating?"

Necromancy. But there were a handful of things to call the "created" weren't there? Inferi, charmed skeletons, zombies... Draco figured he might as well put them all down to be safe.

"Final question," Hunt called, arms folded across his chest, looking around at the students. "What do you expect to accomplish after completing this class?"

Draco blinked. In regards to what? What he expected to have learned by the end of the class? Skills he'd have to use and apply outside school? Future endeavors and bloody life goals? What a broad, ridiculous question. He glowered at his parchment. What did he, as a Malfoy, a Slytherin, a convicted Death Eater, expect to accomplish? _ Nothing, _he scribbled spitefully. He wouldn't accomplish anything. He couldn't. He'd be lucky to just make it to the end of the year without a prison sentence.

"Thank you," Professor Hunt said, voice deep and clear. He waved his wand and all the assessments formed a neat pile on his desk. "Open to page 3 of your textbook and take the next twenty minutes to go over the introductory chapter while I sort these out."

Draco pulled out his book, now in a poor mood. He read through the chapter, made a few notes, and threw Rivers a filthy look when he accused him of sulking.

"Right," Hunt said suddenly, causing several students to startle. "Collect your things and stand up against the wall." Everyone hurried to do what they were told. Draco was getting irritatable. Why wouldn't these teachers just let him sit where he ruddy well wanted?

"Bit grumpy, isn't he?" Rivers muttered. "That's your future if you don't stop being such a miserable git all the time, you know."

"Merlin, do you ever shut up? You and Smith must get on grand." Draco snapped.

"She's fit, I could do way worse. You think she's interested?"

Their professor spoke again before Draco could comment. "I have paired you off with suitable partners for the year based on your knowledge and skill. When I call your name take a seat where I indicate."

"Dunbar, Li,"

"Smith, Zabini,"

"Thomas, Rivers,"

"Granger, Malfoy,"

Draco barely curbed the instinct to drop his head back hard against the wall behind him. _Of_ _course_.

He joined the Gryffindor Princess where she sat rigidly in the center of the room where Hunt had pointed. "Malfoy," she greeted evenly.

"Granger," he returned, attempting to appear as unruffled as she did.

And that was that. Neither spoke for the rest of the lesson. When Hunt dismissed the class he held Draco back, not looking up from his desk. "Malfoy, come here a moment,"

Draco halted halfway through stuffing a book into his bag, confused. Next to him, Granger hesitated uncertainly as if she was going to wait. Draco stared at her nonplussed. She seemed to visibly come to her senses and hurried out the door.

"Er, yes sir?" Draco managed when her back was out of sight.

"You did well on your assessment." He hadn't said it like a compliment but Draco found himself thanking him anyway. Hunt didn't acknowledge his gratitude, still not even bothering to look at him. "Your first response was lackluster, but your final response I found most interesting."

Draco watched the older wizard guardedly. "Sir?"

"Nothing," Hunt quoted, holding up Draco's sheet. "Very succinct. Though I wonder how is it that a young wizard with your talent, and a Slytherin no less, could have so little ambition?"

Draco bit his tongue hard to keep his cheek in check. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, professor, I'm not sure what you're referring to."

"Don't act thick, boy, I haven't the patience for it," Hunt said harshly. "I'm not your damn mother; I won't coddle you and tell you you're a perfect little ray of sunshine. I have access to your exam results. You're bright. You could explore careers in various avenues. And yet you aspire to... nothing."

"No disrespect intended, sir," Draco said, voice stiffly polite. "But if you haven't noticed I'm not exactly well-liked at the moment. I'm hardly an enticing hire."

Hunt leaned back in his chair and eyed Draco critically. A silence stretched between them and Draco shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Very well, let's take out those outside elements. In a perfect world, Mr. Malfoy, what would you be doing after this school year?"

"I don't know, professor," Draco said, an edge to his voice despite his best efforts. "As the outside elements are very much a factor I haven't given it much thought."

"Hmm," the older wizard released a contemplative breath, mustache ruffling. "You'll work on that, then. The next time I ask you that question I'll expect a better answer."

"Sir-" Draco said, eyebrows furrowed.

"That'll be all, Malfoy," Hunt said in a tone that allowed no room for argument. "You may go."

Draco sucked in an aggravated breath through his nose and stomped out of the room.

"Finally," huffed an increasingly familiar voice.

"Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse," Draco snarled, turning to see Granger sitting against the wall. Her bare legs were stretched in front of her, on display thanks to the part in her robes, and crossed at the ankle. She had a book propped in her lap. She was the picture of ease. Draco ripped his eyes from her exposed skin and scowled at her, ignoring the involuntarily tug behind his bellybutton.

She gave him an unimpressed look at his greeting as she got to her feet, shouldering her bag and keeping her finger wedged in _ Alchemical duodecimo _to presumably keep her place. He swept past her, intending to pick up a sandwich from the Great Hall and have lunch in his room far away from her and everyone else.

To his chagrin, Granger merely quickened her steps to keep pace with him. "What did Professor Hunt want?" she questioned quickly.

"None of your business," he said gruffly, looking ahead sourly.

He could feel the frustration radiating off her. "If it was something about the test then it is my business since we were partnered together based on the results."

"As much as it pains me to say, the grandiose mistake of partnering us was not corrected. So I'm afraid you're still stuck with me," he said mockingly, descending the staircase.

"I just meant that if you got something wrong that likely means I got the same-"

"Yes, because Merlin forbid Hermione Granger gets a question wrong!"

She crossed her arms over her book and grumbled. "I'd just like to know the results, Malfoy, and he didn't offer them. There's no need to be such a tosser about it."

Draco halted his strides in front of the Great Hall, eyeing her suspiciously. She looked disgruntled but genuine. He felt a stab of shame for being rude and then promptly shoved the feeling away. It was just Granger for Salazar's sake. Still, he found himself telling her, "He wasn't reviewing my answers, we were talking about something else. He just said I did well on the assessment, so I'd wager you did as well." She looked momentarily surprised at his canter, so Draco couldn't keep himself from adding, "Satisfied?"

She rolled her eyes before asking, "If you weren't discussing the results then what did he want to talk about? He wasn't giving you trouble, was he?"

He felt a pleasant thrill in his chest at her question. He rose a brow, smirking. "Concerned about me, Granger? I'm touched."

"Hardly. It would go against the Unity Initiative if I let you get bullied." she sniffed. "I take the Leadership position seriously."

Draco chuckled darkly, turning away from her and heading into the Great Hall. "Tell that to the students from various Houses serving six weeks of detention for jumping in on the duel you started in here yesterday."

He made his way to the Slytherin table, disregarding the looks he got from the students he passed. He nicked two turkey sandwiches and tucked a handful of crisps in a napkin before retreating back to the exit. Granger was at her House table now, seated alone. He watched her as he made his escape, thinking it was odd to see her at the table without Potter and Weasley. She must have felt his gaze because she looked up sharply, frowning briefly as she looked around before finding his eyes. Her lips pursed, clearly bothered by his comment and Draco grinned winningly at her as he disappeared out of the Hall.

On his way back to the Leadership common room he forced all of his food in one arm and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He didn't want to be caught unaware again. As he walked, he came across a handful of students milling around but outside of some nasty looks and biting too-loud whispers he made it relatively unscathed.

The common room was empty and Draco assumed Rivers and Smith were having lunch in the Great Hall as well. He dropped his bag by one of the chairs and laid out his lunch carefully on the table before strolling over to the nearest wall. Draco glanced at the portrait of the lion as it yawned lazily, the badger from one of the other frames peeking in at one of the corners. He ran his eyes over the titles on the shelf in front of him, looking for something interesting. Most of them were volumes he’d never seen before with unfamiliar authors. Finally, he found something he recognized, an old copy of _ Quidditch Through the Ages. _

Draco dropped down into the cushy chair by his bag and began reading, book in one hand while he ate with the other. He’d read the book before, but it was nice to do something that felt relatively normal. The next hour passed quickly and Draco marked his page before heading out to his final lesson for the day.

Charms had never been Draco’s favorite class, but he always did well with the spellwork and Professor Flitwick was a much more competent teacher than some of their other professors throughout the years. The class went by with nothing particularly interesting taking place. He sat towards the back of the room by himself and the little man thankfully did not force any of them to move around the classroom. Draco was pleased to avoid another silly round of musical chairs.

The Slytherin quickly made his way back to the Leads’ quarters afterward to find the common room blissfully empty again. It seemed the others were taking more classes than Draco, so he might have a comfortable space to himself during his free periods often. He grinned at the thought; he could get used to that.

He settled himself on the couch this time, toeing off his shoes and pulling off his school robe before lounging across the plush upholstery with a contented sigh. With a few more squirms he found the perfect spot and opened his book again. After a while, though still entirely too soon for his likely, the door opened.

Draco peeked over the back of the couch to see Granger closing the door behind her, lugging her overstuff bag with her. She hadn’t seen him yet and Draco used the moment to his advantage to gauge her mood. She looked flustered; hair exceptionally wild, face red and splotchy, body tense. It was the first time outside of their rows where she actually looked human. She had been so forcibly calm any time he wasn’t getting under her skin.

Granger stalked over to the chair he had sat in for lunch, dropped her bag unceremoniously, and let out a frustrated sigh before turning to throw herself into the seat. Her eyes met Draco’s and she let out an incredibly undignified shriek, hand flying to her chest.

“Merlin’s beard, Malfoy, you scared me!” she said accusingly, chest heaving.

He snorted, knowing he looked very unapologetic. “I gathered.” He had enjoyed himself earlier, poking at her before lunch. Mocking Granger could be nearly as enjoyable as studying Quidditch strategy with the added benefit of also carrying a lot of old normalcy.

She huffed an annoyed breath. “You could have said something, to let me know you were in here.”

“I could have, yeah,”

Granger glared at him, crossing her arms agitatedly. “Well then why didn’t you?”

“I was distracted, I suppose.”

“Distracted?”

“By the frightful state of your hair. I might have been literally struck speechless.”

“You’re an absolute prat,” she snapped with more anger than Draco thought the gibe called for.

He shrugged, focusing again on his book, feeling his ire raise. “Better that than being a bloody swot.”

“Better to be a swot than a Death Eater.”

His mouth twisted into a scowl. He threw his book down on the couch beside him as he sat up. "Merlin, Granger, what's your problem?"

"You're my problem," she insisted, but already some of her ire was seeping out of her. Draco watched as her shoulders sank a little. There were dark circles under her eyes that he hadn't noticed earlier.

He continued to eye her dubiously for a moment. "Right," he drawled skeptically.

Granger sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "I just- I'm not sleeping well and Ron and I are in a row and-" she stopped abruptly, glancing up at him as if remember who she was talking to. He merely cocked a brow at her. "Nevermind. I don't know why I'm talking to you about this."

Neither did he. But he wouldn't miss an opportunity to insult that ginger menace when it was presented to him. "It's not surprising; Weasley's an idiot."

"No he's not," Granger said icily. "He's actually quite smart-"

Draco was losing interest in this conversation. He could tell she was getting worked up again (Draco apparently had that effect on her even when he wasn't trying) and he wasn't actually looking for a fight. "Look, Granger, I couldn't care less about you or your pet weasel or your lovers' quarrel, alright? I-"

"Yes, you only care about yourself, right?" she huffed out. "Everyone's going out of their way to try and keep you safe and you're still a self-centered, egotistical child-"

His patience frayed as she insulted him. Thoughts of avoiding the row evaporating. "For Salazar's sake, Weasley would have to be an idiot to be with you. You're insufferable. Honestly, do you just speak to hear yourself? Go find one of your friends to confide your pathetic problems to next time, oh wait," he paused, mocking and malicious. "You don't have any here, do you?"

Granger's face was reddening. "At least I _have _friends- people who _love_ me! The only person who loves you is your mother and the only reason she's not rotting in Azkaban right now is because of the kindness of _my _friend. If Harry didn't speak up she'd be losing her mind in a cell next to your pathetic monster of a father!"

Draco stiffened, feeling like he'd be slapped. The air grew thicker, silence ringing in the room. Granger was fully flushed in the face now, looking like she knew she crossed a line but was too angry to apologize.

Draco was standing then, his anger bubbled under his skin, fists clenching at his sides. “Don't you dare speak about my parents, Granger. You keep your filthy Mudblood mouth-” He stopped abruptly.

The brunette's eyes flashed and suddenly her wand was against his chest and she was on her feet, backing him up as he scrambled to get a few steps away from her.

"My filthy _ what_, Malfoy?" she asked. "Go on,"

"I wasn't- I didn't-" he stuttered as she forced him back another step, his back hitting a wall of books. If she had been angry before it was nothing compared to what she was now.

"A Mudblood," she said and Draco flinched. "That's what you were going to say, right?"

"No," he insisted, shaking his head. He fumbled, the hole in his chest that had been filled with blinding fury replaced with regret that threatened to suffocate him. She went too far but to call her that- after everything- he hadn't meant to. "You just- I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did mean. Am I a filthy little Mudblood that stole this wand from a real witch? That's what the Muggle-Born Registration Commission said when they were rounding up _my kind _last year. After all, I couldn’t possibly have my own magic, with this dirty muggle blood in my veins. But, wait, you’ve _ seen _my blood firsthand, haven’t you, Malfoy?”

Draco said nothing, eyes on the tip of her wand. His gaze moved, unable to look away, as she pulled the sleeve of her wand arm back to reveal the scarred skin beneath her robes. _ Mudblood _carved crudely into her forearm, the skin still irritated and red around the letters.

“When Bellatrix Lestrange tortured me on the floor in your home, you _saw_ my blood. You all did. It wasn’t dirty, but no one cared then.” She was in his face, words soft and sharper than the edge of a blade. She looked unhinged. Her wand found the point of his chin. “My blood was just as red then as yours was last night. So tell me, Malfoy, how does your prejudice feel now? How do your slurs hold up, hm?"

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but it felt hollow. He didn't know what he was apologizing for: For that night? For using the word? For the part of him still believing in it?

She narrowed her eyes, the tiniest scoff falling past her lips. Slowly, Granger lowered her wand. Draco could see her coming back to herself, calm facade in place once more. “I think it would be best if you didn’t call me that anymore.”

Draco nodded slightly, blinking rapidly. “I- right. Yes, I won’t.”

She gave a curt nod and went back to her chair, sat down, and pulled out a few books as though nothing happened.

Draco sagged against the wall for a moment, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, entirely off-kilter at her sudden change in demeanor. He started to make his way back over to his belongings, fully intending to flee to his bedroom, when Smith and Rivers arrived.

“Oh great, you’re both already here!” Smith said. “We were talking about event ideas, have either of you come up with anything yet?”

Rivers herded him back to the couch, collapsing inelegantly next to him as he addressed his co-Leads. “I was thinking about inter-House tutoring programs? What do you think? Or something with Quidditch maybe? Sally says that the Quidditch idea is asking for trouble, but people love Quidditch!”

Draco sighed resignedly. Apparently he wasn’t going to get out of this and hide in his room. He offered little to the conversation, hardly following along. Which was a result entirely based on his disinterest and had absolutely nothing to do with his inability to keep his eyes from shooting over to study Granger’s face every few seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate any kudos and comments you can give!


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